


Broken Glass

by firewoodwander



Series: scribbles for the soul [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Bittersweet, Crushes, Fluff, M/M, Smut, mixed ratings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:55:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 3,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27842605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firewoodwander/pseuds/firewoodwander
Summary: One-shots, prompts, requestsCody/Wooley, Fox/Thorn, Fives/Tech, Jesse/Kix, Jesse/Kix/Rex, Cody/Fox, Dogma/Fives
Relationships: CC-1010 | Fox/Clone Commander Thorn, CC-2224 | Cody/CC-1010 | Fox, CC-2224 | Cody/Wooley, CT-27-5555 | ARC-5555 | Fives/Tech (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), CT-5597 | Jesse/CT-6116 | Kix, CT-5597 | Jesse/CT-6116 | Kix/CT-7567 | Rex, Dogma/CT-27-5555 | ARC-5555 | Fives
Series: scribbles for the soul [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2163966
Comments: 24
Kudos: 99





	1. Cody/Wooley, Linger

**Author's Note:**

> Pairings, characters, ratings in chapter titles, warnings in notes!

“Don’t go.”

It’s clear he hadn’t meant to say it aloud, that much is for sure. Cody looks back at him, at how his eyes are screwed so tightly shut and his lips are pressed into a thin, pained line. He hadn’t meant to say it, Cody knows he’s well aware of both of their duties, but… 

“I’m sorry,” he says, quietly. Not a promise of  _ I won’t _ that he’ll never be able to keep. Not an empty platitude that’ll only make them feel all the more hollow for it.

“I’m sorry,” Cody says, and leans back over to press a kiss to Wooley’s forehead. 

Of course Cody doesn’t want to leave. To want to leave the sweetest thing he’s ever met, the stunning soldier stretched out and pliant and tangled on the sheets of his bunk—that could only ever be madness, in Cody’s mind. But the General’s summons calls, the next mission awaits, the next terrifying battle after which they’ll both be biting their nails in the hopes that the other, and all their friends and family, come back alive.

General Kenobi sometimes says he wishes to  _ ‘come back in one piece,’ _ a sort of in-joke with Skywalker. Cody and his brothers have long since learnt that  _ one piece _ is the least of their worries.

Wooley sighs gently beneath him, bound to their fate before he was even decanted. Cody swallows down the lump in his throat and the quiet ringing in his ears and bends to kiss his mouth instead, a slow thing, soft, light, alight with the warmth of their lips meeting under the guise of an innocence they’ve never had the privilege of possessing. The feeling lingers, intoxicating, even after he sits back and runs a careful knuckle beneath one of his sweetheart’s amber-brown eyes, along the cut of his cheek and down again to his lips; an obsession. 

“Cody,” Wooley says eventually. He takes Cody’s hand and tangles their fingers over his chest. “The General’s waiting.”

“I’ll be back,” Cody tells him then, stealing one last, branding kiss before he pulls away to dress. 

Wooley’s gaze follows him all the way out of the door, and when that shuts behind him, it feels like all the warmth on their tiny, insignificant home of a ship is shut out with it.


	2. Fox/Thorn, Crushed

“You’re staring.”

Thorn doesn’t jump at the sudden volume of Stone’s voice in his ear, but it’s a damn close thing. He blinks and tears his gaze away from where Fox is busy pouring his third caf of the morning to glare down into his own.

“I’m not.”

“Yeah, you are,” Hound grins, leering at him from across the shoddy table.

_ “No,” _ Thorn says slowly. “I’m just worried. He doesn’t look like he’s slept since Taungsday.”

Stone sighs. “Aren’t we all. But  _ we _ don’t start making heart eyes at his back as soon as he turns around.”

Thorn scoffs and kicks at his shin guard. Hound hums consideringly and turns to look over his shoulder.

“I’m not too sure it’s his back he’s looking at—”

“Shut the kriff up,” Thorn mutters, launching himself across the table, mindful of his mug, to yank him back around. “And stop looking, he’ll notice!”

Hound grins wider. “Oh, so you admit it?”

_ “No.” _

Stone snorts and nudges his shoulder, sloshing their drinks as he does. “But you  _ don’t _ want him to hear us discussing your little puppy crush, do you?” 

“Shhh!” Thorn hisses, shoving him back and waving his hand in an abortive motion as Fox leans back on the counter. He glances over to them as he lifts his mug to his mouth and offers a bemused tilt of the mouth. “Both of you, shut up! You’re not helping.”

“All right over there?” Fox calls. He has one arm crossed over his chest with his hand nestled in the crook of his opposite elbow as he sips smoothly, and honestly, Thorn has had so many thoughts about those arms he could probably draw them from memory.

“All fine,” Stone says, smirking. Thorn sighs and tries to hide behind his mug as he waves Fox off. The guys might enjoy watching him squirm and blush red when they rib him, but he knows they won’t  _ actually _ let slip to Fox, not really. 

Not on purpose, at least, even if Hound’s expression of pure evil scheming says otherwise.


	3. Tech/Fives, Rescue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by [this GORGEOUS art request by an-anxious-alpaca!](https://an-anxious-alpaca.tumblr.com/post/637524088960761856/an-anon-request-of-fives-and-tech-being-cute)  
> Your work is fantastic my love, and with such a left-field rarepair, how could I resist?

“Hey there, dollface.”

Large blue-and-white painted arms slip their way around Tech’s waist. He doesn’t startle from the unexpected touch, nor the click-slide of a cuirass against the back of his own, but the tickle of hot breath and a goatee at his neck does make his shoulders curl toward his ears as he tries to escape it.

“Hello,” he replies, a smile crooked on his lips. “I thought it’d been quiet around.”

Fives grins and kisses the spot he likes to torment behind Tech’s ear. “Came to ask if you’ve eaten since this morning.”

The datapad in Tech’s hand glows steadily, accusatory where the time blinks up at him from the corner of the top bar. It’s been a few hours now since he realised he was hungry, but…

“No,” he admits sheepishly. “I didn’t think to.”

Fives sighs, sliding one hand up and down Tech’s side, but Tech can see he’s smiling. He leans into Fives’ arms and rests a hand over the back of the one holding his waist.

“Guess it’s good I’m here to be on hand to feed you then, isn’t it?”

“That’s assuming you’ve remembered to feed yourself, too,” Tech retorts. The only one of them who regularly remembers their meals is Hunter, and Tech thinks that’s only because he’s set an alarm on his comm. Half the time they haven’t either the time or rations to eat, and the other half they’re on-mission and have to grab what they can, when they can get it. Keeping a schedule is something only Fives and Echo have ever managed off Kamino, and that’s because they were two tiny parts of a very large battalion whose ships and gear and people would be guaranteed to remain running while they slept. 

Tech, though, has always had a slightly different problem. Crosshair once tried placing a ration bar in front of him to see what would happen; Tech had seen it, acknowledged it, and yet it hadn’t even occurred to him to eat it until Cross had told him it was for lunch.

The arm around his waist squeezes tight, secure and warm through the thermals between the plastoid, and Tech lets Fives pull his weight back into his chest.

“Don’t worry about it,” Fives murmurs. “Wrecker threw something together and left it for us in the galley. Want a bite?”

Tech nods and grins when Fives hooks his chin over his shoulder and rests their temples together. “Are you going to let me go long enough to get there?”

Fives pouts for a moment of emphasis before closing his eyes and huffing imperiously.  _ “No.” _

Tech can’t help but laugh, squeezing the wrist at his waist in appreciation before extracting himself and turning that hand over to link their fingers instead.

“Come on, I’m hungry. I want to get our portions before Crosshair finishes the rest.”

Fives smiles beatifically at him, soft and sweet in a way that always makes Tech flush—makes him feel like he’s the only thing in the room, somehow—and follows easily at the tug of his hand.

“He really does eat a lot, doesn’t he? I’ve always wondered where that bastard puts it all.”


	4. Jesse/Kix/Rex, Tomorrow

Kix holds him in the medbay, after. Commander Cody is sleeping behind a curtained-off corner. Captain Rex and the General are off on mission. And Kix is here, clinging where his arms wrap around Jesse’s neck, pulling his face into his shoulder and holding him there.

“I hate it,” he says eventually. Jesse makes a small noise of question and tilts his face into the heated skin of his neck. “You, going off without me again. I always do.”

“It went fine,” Jesse murmurs. “The Batch—they’re a bunch of chakaars, but they’re good.”

“One of them can snap you in half with one hand,” Kix reminds him with amusement. “I wasn’t worried about that, though.”

“I know.” Jesse slides his arms down to the small of Kix’s back and pulls him in, tightly against him. “He’ll be back soon. He has the General with him, and he won’t let anything happen to his best Captain.”

Kix snorts and pushes his nose against Jesse’s temple. “The Commander would kill him if he did.”

“Exactly. And when he gets back you can grab him and poke and prod until you’re happy, and then we can sneak him away and not let go until he threatens us with the neglected paperwork.”

Kix shifts. “I just… With everything…”

“You know what’s going to happen, don’t you?” Jesse says. “He’s going to come back successful, sweep you off your feet and give you the ‘I’m home’ kiss of your life, and then he’s going to pat me on the shoulder and tell me it’s good to see me just to make us both laugh. And  _ then _ he’s going to say that—”

“—That the mission was so stressful he could really do with sleeping for a week, and then  _ we’re _ going to do our best to make him actually try,” Kix finishes. 

“Yeah,” Jesse tells him, leaning back to smile at his beautiful husband and wipe away his exhausted tears. “Yeah, that’s exactly what we’re going to do.”


	5. Cody/Fox, Strung - Explicit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS:  
> PWP: minor orgasm denial, cuff restraint, use of toys

Fox whines into the pillow, long and high and plaintive. His wrists strain where they’re crossed above his head and cuffed to the headboard. His back arches even farther with Cody’s next slow stroke, lifting his arse higher while his knees splay wide on the mattress.

“You’re so good, aren’t you?” Cody murmurs. “Good for me, so pretty and sweet.” 

Fox drops his hips back into Cody’s thrust and moans, his head jerking as if he’d tried to nod and then thought better. Cody tightens the grip of one hand on his waist and trails the other forward to tease the length of his cock, from its dripping head to the metal ring at its base. Fox squirms and moans beneath him. Cody thrusts forward, draws out, fucks in harder again.

“Do you want to come, Fox? Is that what you want?”

_ “Yes,” _ Fox groans, meeting each of Cody’s thrusts with what little leverage he still has. Cody leans in to mouth over the shell of his ear.

“Make me come first, and then I’ll reward you for it.” 

At Fox’s desperate noise, Cody speeds up his pace and slams into him harder and harder, pushing them both forward into the sheets, chasing the pleasure that sparks through his veins with every clench of Fox’s hole. And Fox takes it,  _ oh _ he takes it so well. His eyes hang half-open and he’s probably drooling into the pillow, but a glance at all the used and discarded toys scattered around them would give any man a pass. 

Cody chuckles to himself at his wanton moaning beneath him—long has he given up on the pretense of any restraint. He trembles under Cody’s hands as Cody fucks him hard and fast through the last few strokes before coming deep inside him, groaning, folding over Fox’s back as he keens.

The chain of the cuffs rattles against the headboard when Fox jerks. The cock ring drops to the bed and is replaced by Cody’s fingers, clamped tight around the base of his cock.

“Fuck!” he gasps. “Cody!”

“Shhh, shhh, you’re doing so well.” Cody slides out of Fox’s ass and turns him over carefully. His wrists uncross and his head lolls between his raised shoulders, eyebrows arched in a pleading look of pain. “So well, ner cyare, so good for me. Look at you, so wet and open, you’ve been used so well…”

Cody reaches for the one item they haven’t used yet, kept out of sight and glinting in the stark white quarter lights. The plug slips easily past Fox’s well-softened rim and the beautiful crimson jewel of it nestles between his cheeks like they’re home, stoppering Cody’s cum from slipping back out and making Fox whimper near-inaudibly.

“That’s it,” Cody hushes. “It’s done, you’ve done beautifully. You can have your reward now.”

And as Fox groans with relief, Cody lowers himself down to the mattress to take the head of Fox’s cock in his mouth. He licks around and over it with some insistence, done for now with the teasing, before slowly taking more of it in until he reaches his gagging point. He sucks down on the upstroke, swirls his tongue along the underside, swoops greedily back down. Fox writhes and yanks on the cuffs; Cody lets him buck his hips, knowing it’s all the better for the sensation he gains himself as Cody’s fingers pull on the edge of the plug. Too gone to say anything—too gone to  _ realise, _ maybe—Fox shouts and comes in Cody’s mouth after only a short few moments.

Once Cody’s swallowed as best he can and cleaned up whatever he didn’t manage to catch, he pulls back to take in Fox’s debauched and exhausted state. He’s limp where he lies and his breathing is laboured and shaky, though he’s still conscious and somehow following Cody with his eyes. Cody leans up and unlatches the padded cuffs, uncaring when they slide to the floor with a clatter. He gathers up Fox in his arms and slides in beside him, gently propping him on his chest and working hands along his arms from his shoulders to his wrists. Fox sighs into the damp skin of Cody’s neck and slumps against him. Cody presses a soft kiss to his temple as eyes fall closed.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Fox mumbles. “Great, actu’lly. Tired.”

Cody strokes one hand over his chest and the other through his sweaty curls. “Then don’t worry about anything. I’ll look after you. Just sleep.”

“Yeah,” Fox breathes some semblance of a laugh. “Easier said than done.”

And yet, by the time Cody’s cleared up after them and wiped them both down, Fox is fast asleep and tucked into the clean sheets of Cody’s own bunk.


	6. Dogma/Fives, Lethargy pt. I - Mature-Explicit

Dogma doesn’t know how they got here.

He doesn’t know what it was about him that managed to catch an ARC trooper’s eye. All he knows is that they’ve done this before, this thing where Fives lavishes him with attention and then doesn’t disappear immediately afterwards. 

Not like, in the world of Dogma’s mind, he ought to.

All he knows is that Fives isn’t usually quite like this. Even on a gentler day where they’re tired and emotional and in need of taking apart and holding together, there’s usually a sharper edge of desperation, of carelessness, of a one-time-thing that neither of them acknowledge has become a several-time-thing. At least not out loud.

All he knows is the body-warm weight of Fives on top of him, seated over his thighs. All he knows is the flash of friction as his heels grace the skin of Fives’ back where his knees have curled up involuntarily in his pleasure. All he knows is the heat of the bliss he’s driven deeper into with every languorous rock of Fives inside him, rutting his leaking cock against the mattress he’s pressed against.

Fives shifts, leaning down over Dogma. The movement makes him moan, then arch at the sear of lips over his unusually freckled back. He thinks Fives might be tracing constellations there as he rolls into Dogma over and over and over, thumbs dug into the small of his back and fingers slotted into the curve between his hips and ribs, curled possessively around his sides. Dogma’s own hands tighten in the pillow he gasps into, wishing—just a flicker of a thought—that he could see Fives’ face. 

A nip to his shoulder and Dogma groans, head falling to one side.

Later, Fives’ eyes glitter in the dark as Dogma traces over all the different, familiar features of his face with his gaze.

“Don’t do it,” he whispers into the stillness, a plea and an unknowing confession.

But Fives only smiles that soft and handsome smile of his and kisses his lips a sweet apology. One Dogma falls headlong into, just as he has every time before that. And again, he forgets.

When he wakes up, there are three bunks empty in the barracks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're wondering where the rest of Lethargy disappeared to, it is now [here!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29659332/chapters/72923073#workskin)


	7. Cody/Wooley, Cute Boys - Explicit

Cody drinks in the pitch of the high whine Wooley lets out as he squirms. His bound wrists wrench against the silk of the ropes tying him to the bunk frame, elbows twitching and muscles jumping when he tosses his head. Cody crooks his finger, just brushing his prostate. Wooley mewls and jerks and pants, gazing desirously up at him through dark, wet lashes.

Trembling thighs, hair splayed in glossy curls across the pillow, a flushed, hard cock standing out proud from his body. It must be such a struggle keeping his hips still for Cody as requested, keeping quiet when Cody can practically hear the pleas that curl on the tip of his bitten tongue. Cody runs his other hand over his flank, as he lies stretched leisurely along his side, and smiles.

“You’re being very good for me, sweetheart,” he murmurs. “Very good indeed.”

Wooley squeezes his eyes shut and carefully doesn’t buck onto the one finger Cody’s using to tease him. Cody relents at that sweet submission, skimming his slicked middle finger around Wooley’s rim to prod and caress before sliding it inside him beside the first. 

The leg hooked over Cody’s elbow and hip twitches; Wooley’s toes flex and curl in delight. The moan that falls from his lips when Cody uses both to stroke across his sweet spot— _that,_ that is what makes this all worth it. It hits somewhere deep in Cody’s chest, catches and reverberates until his entire body thrums with it. He leans down and presses soft kisses to Wooley’s shoulder as he fucks him languidly with his fingers now, travelling up over skin beading sweat and bleeding heat and more than perfect for all its blemishes. 

When his lips reach Wooley’s throat he sets about sucking gentle marks into his darling cyare, curling and pumping his fingers to the tune of more gasped moans and sounds. 

When Wooley’s head tips back with his pleasure, Cody pauses only a moment to grace his lips with a pretty kiss before he dives in to take full advantage.


	8. Fox/Thorn, “Tell me I’m Wrong.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For parkkrys!  
> From [this prompt list](https://firewoodwander.tumblr.com/post/643513381079449600/prompt-list-i)

“No… I—it  _ can’t _ be,” he whispers. Fox watches him from the other side of the desk, as torn and riled inside as Thorn looks. His lover has to prop himself on the back of the guest chair so as not to stagger into something, breathing in shuddering, shallow breaths and gripping at his temples.

“Tell me I’m wrong, love,” Fox half-pleads. “Tell me this isn’t happening.”

Thorn is silent for a long few minutes. Fox can’t see his eyes for his hand, but he can see how his brow twitches, furrows upwards in dismay and dawning realisation and sorrow. But finally he lets out a long and not particularly steadying breath, lifts himself from the back of the chair, but still clings to its poorly padded edge.

“You’re not,” he says hoarsely. “You’re not wrong. You’re never wrong. That’s the problem.” 

He looks up at Fox with a fire in his eyes that’s belied by enough pain and betrayal for the behalf of the entire GAR. Fox can’t help but rise, then, to go to him, to graze his gloved fingers over his scarred cheek and settle a thumb below his eye. Thorn watches, leans into it, reaches for his waist to pull him closer.

“I’ve pulled the boys out. All of them. Sent a memo to the SG to say they can do their own damn jobs. Told Duster to keep Tin and Jess and Scope as far away from that chakaar as he can.”

Keeping the shinies-that-should-be-cadets out of harm’s way has always been one of their number one priorities, but Thorn had always felt it more keenly than Fox, who already had so many variables on the board to keep track of. So Fox feels it when Thorn sags with one small glimmer of relief, and hooks his other arm around his waist to pull his lover against his chest.

“Thank you,” Thorn murmurs into his neck. His face feels hot, resting against the skin below Fox’s ear, but then he straightens again, holding Fox close like this is one of his dramatically romantic dates rather than a prelude to a War Council. 

“Tell me,” he says. “How much evidence do you have, and how far along is your plan to murder a Sith? I’d hate to miss out on a chance to share the credit.”


	9. Rex & Cody & Gree, Respect

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From [this prompt!](https://firewoodwander.tumblr.com/post/643914371833167872/212th-arc-rex-who-tries-to-talk-some-sense-into)

“Vod.”

Through the holo, Gree looks up. “Hello, Rex.”

_“Vod,”_ Rex says again, even more pained. “Is that really the choice you want to make?”

Beneath Rex, Cody’s shoulder shifts. He’s laughing—or trying not to—so at least Rex knows he’s not the only one of this opinion.

“I’ll have you know, vod’ika, that this is out of respect!” Gree gestures to the, uh, the change in _hairstyle_ he’s recently given himself. It’s perhaps only Rex leaning on him that keeps Cody’s shoulders from visibly shaking.

“You know, I really think someone was just having us on,” he mutters. Then, louder, “But why _red?”_

“Why not red?”

“Your battalion is green.”

“And?”

“It didn’t have to be red, surely—”

“Just because you think it was a joke doesn’t mean it doesn’t have significance now,” Gree chastises.

“I mean, yeah—”

“And also I really wanted to find out what face the Commander would make when she sees it.”

There’s a brief moment of silence, and then all of them are cracking up into peals of laughter.

“Damnit, Gree!” Cody snickers. “I thought you said it was respect!”

“I can be respectful while also knowing it’s a really, objectively bad fashion choice!”

“Well at least you know!” Rex cackles. His pauldron skims Cody’s neck as he leans on him more. “It’s bad enough that it looks like I’m trying to camouflage with our own colours, and that’s not by choice!”

“Ha, Cody did that on purpose.”

“I did _not.”_

“Bet you did.”

“Didn’t!”

“Okay, adiike,” Rex snorts. “Cut it out before I have to get the General.”

“No, no, get Skywalker. I wanna see his reaction too.”

_“Goodbye,_ Gree.”

“Kote!”

“Bye,” Rex grins. Cody shuts off the holocomm and leans back on his heels, hand rubbing over his eyes as he tries not to laugh any more.

“Hang on,” Rex says, “wasn’t there a reason you were calling him?”

Cody groans, long and low. “I don’t care. I’ll get it from someone else. Just as long as I don’t have to talk to that smug bastard…”

Rex pats his Commander’s shoulder in consolation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're wondering where Lethargy disappeared to, it is now [here!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29659332/chapters/72923073#workskin)

**Author's Note:**

> Find me here on [tumblr!](https://firewoodwander.tumblr.com/)


End file.
